


In 1,2,3,4. Out 1,2,3,4.

by RoaringRaina



Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [4]
Category: A3! (Anime), A3! (Video Game)
Genre: (the romance is not the main focus though), Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Mental Health Issues, No Spoilers, Panic Attacks, everyone deserves a yuki and a sakuya in their lives im just saying, tenma my boy im so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29019393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoaringRaina/pseuds/RoaringRaina
Summary: As Tenma’s lungs filled themselves with oxygen, the haze in his head cleared up leaving a terrible headache in its place. His face felt like it was on fire and his heart still beat painfully in his chest. But he could think clearly again, his thoughts finally settling long enough to be understood.“Are you okay?” his manager had asked.Tenma had scoffed and put his chest out. Of course he was okay, why would he not be okay? This was nothing. Just a panic attack, nothing more, nothing less.But it had been the start of everything.
Relationships: Sakuma Sakuya/Sumeragi Tenma
Series: Mankai Mental Health Company [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1891930
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	In 1,2,3,4. Out 1,2,3,4.

**Author's Note:**

> TW: detailed description of panic/anxiety attacks.  
> There's a recurring metaphor about how Tenma experiences these panic/anxiety moments so I unfortunately cannot give you a word you can skip to as it comes back a lot.
> 
> Please take care of yourself and skip this one if this makes you uneasy.

There is something unfair about panic attacks.  
  
There is something very unfair about feeling overwhelmed by one too many things and your body deciding, instead of working through those feelings, to speed up your heart rate and make you feel like you’re about to die instead.  
  
This is nothing new for Sumeragi Tenma, but as he hides in the bathroom stall opposite the training room, he curses his body for putting him through the unfairness of it all.  
  
This isn’t Tenma’s first time cowering in a bathroom stall, trying his best to control the heavy beating of his heart and the rapid fall of his chest. It probably wouldn’t be his last, the depressing and pessimistic voice in his head supplies haughtily, the only clear thought amidst the tornado of otherwise incoherent words and feelings that ravage his head.  
  
Tenma’s first experience with anxiety was in kindergarten. He had frozen up on the stage of his class’ play and before he knew it, his mind was whirling so fast he had to run off the stage. He hid in a bathroom stall, clutching his knees with tears streaming down his face until he could feel his legs again. His parents hadn’t paid it much attention and tiny Tenma had attributed it more to cowardice than to a problem outside of his control.  
  
His second experience was in middle school, as he auditioned for a lead role, slightly out of his comfort zone. His schedule had been busy for weeks. His parents had hired an agent to help him out and Tenma was happy if he had a few minutes to himself during the day. A moment to catch his breath and be able to breathe without feeling some sort of pressure on his shoulders.   
  
It started with an uneasy feeling in his chest. Tenma had felt like someone had wrapped a rope around his chest, pulling it so tightly, he found it hard to breathe. As if someone had handed him a backpack filled with rocks and he could do nothing to ease the weight in his shoulders. The pain had spread from his shoulders down his arms to settle as a tingling sensation in his fingertips.   
  
It had unnerved Tenma.  
  
He had tried curling and uncurling his fingers. He had stretched his fingers as wide as he could, braided them together and pressed his palms firmly together. Anything to make the tingling sensation disappear. He attributed it to his nerves, the new audition location playing tricks on him, the difficulty of the role having brought out nerves Tenma was convinced he had mastered ages ago.  
  
Tenma had remembered an old trick to help calm himself down after he had a nightmare as a child. He put his hands on his ribs, taking deep breaths and exhaling just as deeply.   
  
_In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
  
_ And then he had his first true panic attack in high school.   
  
Tenma had known something was wrong immediately. His head felt hazy and his heart was beating painfully in his chest. He had been in the middle of a terribly difficult scene, it was his fourth take and while the director and staff had been nothing but accommodating, Tenma felt like a burden.  
  
It was not a difficult scene on paper. Tenma played the role of a lovestruck high school student, who had just been rejected by his love interest. The director had wanted him to express sadness, regret and happiness. Tenma could understand the first two, getting rejected would suck. Not that Tenma knew, with his lack of romantic experience. But he had been rejected for roles he was really excited for and he figured it would feel the same.  
  
It was conveying happiness he struggled with.  
  
Why would anyone feel happy at being rejected by the love of their life? Tenma couldn’t understand so he struggled to convey the complexity in his voice, his “I’m at least glad I told you.” falling flat against the expectations of everyone in the room.  
  
It was as the director shouted out new instructions at him, with all the best intentions Tenma is certain, that his heart pounded heavily and started to hurt. Tenma clutched at his shirt, clawing his fingers into the soft fabric, trying to scratch the ache away.   
  
Unfortunately for him, his body was not satisfied with just heart beating out of tune. The uneasy sensation spread through his body, where previously it found peace in settling in just his fingertips, it now demanded to be felt throughout his entire body.   
  
A tremor so heavy wrecked his body and Tenma lost all feeling in his legs. He saw the room spin. He struggled to breathe, taking quick and short breaths, worried about what was happening. His eyes started to water, tears rapidly forming.  
  
His legs gave out from underneath him and he tumbled forward, catching himself on his knees and hands. Tears streamed over his cheeks, falling onto the ground, leaving dark circles in their wake.   
  
Inside his head, there was smoke. Fire. Fog. Nothing made sense, there were sounds but no words. Thoughts whirled about but never settled long enough to be made sense of.  
  
Tenma was brought back to reality when he felt a warm hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. He looked up, teary eyes and wet cheeks, unable to form words. His manager helped him back on his feet, guiding him to a secluded area. He pushed Tenma not unkindly onto a chair and sat down in front of him so they were on eye level.   
  
“Tenma, look at me.”  
  
Tenma did as he was told, his breathing still sharp and raspy. The feeling in his fingertips had gotten worse and he felt like he could only get rid of it by digging his nails into his skin. He hugged himself, his hands slipping right under the edge of his t-shirt sleeves so his nails could find solace in his upper arms.  
  
His manager wrapped his hands around Tenma’s gently, easing them away from his skin. He held Tenma’s hands between them and squeezed so tightly it hurt. The sensation brought Tenma back, the tingling sensation disappearing with the added pressure.  
  
“Listen to my voice Tenma, we’re gonna focus on your breathing next. Follow my count, deep breath in 1, 2, 3, 4 and out 1, 2, 3, 4. Deep breath in 1, 2, 3, 4, and out 1, 2, 3, 4.”  
  
Tenma followed the instructions faithfully, feeling the restlessness in his body disappear as he focussed on the count.  
  
_In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
  
_ As Tenma’s lungs filled themselves with oxygen, the haze in his head cleared up leaving a terrible headache in its place. His face felt like it was on fire and his heart still beat painfully in his chest. But he could think clearly again, his thoughts finally settling long enough to be understood. Tenma slowly let go of his manager’s hands, shooting him a shaky smile and a hushed whisper of gratitude.   
  
“Are you okay?”   
  
Tenma had scoffed and put his chest out. Of course he was okay, why would he not be okay? This was nothing. Just a panic attack, nothing more, nothing less.  
  
But it had been the start of everything.  
  
Tenma groans as he pushes the annoying memories to the back of his mind. He had no intention of living in the past, he was moving forward. So what if he had to pause every now and then and remember that a forgotten line wouldn’t kill him. So what if his body sabotaged his ambitions by reminding him of his mortality as soon as he got too invested into something?   
  
Tenma splashes his face with water, rubbing at his cheeks with more ferocity than he needed to. He was _so not_ doing this right now. He looked at his reflection, at the mess of hair he had continuously ran his fingers through in a last ditch effort to control the spasms and bursts of energy that made him want to punch something. The rope he had gotten so familiar with unwrapped itself from around his chest and Tenma mentally counts the time between his breaths.   
  
_In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
_ _Out 1, 2, 3, 4.  
  
_ Tenma feels his limbs relax, the familiar fog dissipating, and he can look at his reflection a little bit more forgivingly. He feels absolutely drained of energy, his body still shaking with anxiety and he can still feel that rope around his chest albeit less tightly than before.   
  
He looks down at his watch, sighing as there are only a few minutes left until midnight and defeatedly decides to call it a day.  
  
Tenma drags his body back to the practice room, the rope instantly tightening up as he eyes his script, forgotten on the floor. This time though Tenma knows what to expect, so he makes himself comfortable on the ground, his back straight against the wall and puts his hands behind his head. He feels his upper body stretch out, his lungs opening up and he focuses on his breathing for a little while. The rope loosens gradually, with every breath he’s one step closer to tossing it away.  
  
Once he’s perfectly calm, Tenma decides to take on the challenge with his script. He picks it up off the floor, rolls it up adamantly avoiding looking at the front page where the origin of his current bouts of anxiety stem from. A name so powerful it makes Tenma quake, but one he admires and respects so much he has to make this a success.  
  
Wordlessly, he turns off the lights in the practice room, leaving his demons behind and heads for his room where at least in his bed covered by his blanket, the demons won’t be able to get to him.

  
***  
  


The next morning at breakfast, Tenma still feels off. His body feels sluggish and he’s having trouble keeping up with the morning conversations. He can hear the rumble of people talking, different conversation topics among the breakfast table but the noise doesn't. He feels someone’s eyes drilling into him, but he’s too exhausted from yesterday’s attack and the lingering feelings of unrest to take Yuki up on his challenge.   
  
“Ah! Tenma-kun! You’re not eating as much today!” Sakuya’s shocked voice rings out from the opposite side of the table and he feels his heart lighten instantly. Sakuya looks at him worriedly, his gaze shifting between Tenma’s exhausted expression and the plate full of food in front of him. Tenma feels his cheeks heat up and makes a noncommittal noise as Sakuya makes another comment at his lack of appetite.   
  
“It’s okay, I’ll eat something at school,” Tenma mumbles, hoping to escape Sakuya’s piercing gaze and questions.  
  
“You’re just too tired to eat, aren’t you, Useless Hack?!”  
  
Tenma internally groans at Yuki’s comment and gives him a tired glare. “Can’t you leave me in peace for one single morning?”  
  
Yuki purses his lips together, drawing them into a fine line and just stares at Tenma. Tenma feels that familiar rope edging closer, tightening up around him swiftly. Tenma hates being subjected to Yuki’s gazes and stares. Yuki looks like he could stare straight through Tenma’s skin and grab his soul. It’s terrifying and it leaves him feeling vulnerable.   
  
Two things he is not willing to put up with today.   
  
“Excuse me,” Tenma grumbles, shoving his full plate of food away from him and hastily gets up from the table.   
  
“You useless stubborn hack,” Yuki mumbles under his breath as Tenma shoves his chair back neatly and Tenma feels something inside him snap.  
  
“What is your problem?” He crosses his arms over his chest, trying his best to keep his breathing in check. “Did I wake you up when I got back to our room last night? Did I mess up your beauty sleep? Just for once bite that tongue of yours and go bother someone else!”  
  
Tenma takes deep breaths as the tension in his body increases with every word that leaves his mouth. He doesn’t like the way Yuki looks up at him, worry and pity reflected in those amber eyes of his. Tenma doesn’t like that look at all. He pointedly ignores Sakuya, who is probably looking at him with those soft, doe eyes. No pity but just worry and shock in those rose-coloured eyes.  
  
Tenma feels the blood rush to his face, his cheeks hot and on fire as he darts out the room, Sakuya’s “Tenma-kun, wait!” sounding hollow.   
  
He dashes to his room, grabbing his bag and tries to save his last shred of dignity. His eyes are foggy with tears he refuses to let go of, his frustration meter going off the charts.   
  
“Tenma-kun!”   
  
It’s the anger in his voice that makes Tenma stop in his mindless bulldozing ways. The frustration in Sakuya’s otherwise soft and gentle voice that captures Tenma’s attention instantly. Sakuya is in the doorway, looking at Tenma with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms.  
  
It reminds Tenma of a puppy trying to scare off a burglar.   
  
“Hey Sakuya.” Tenma hears himself say, the tension in his shoulder relaxing when Sakuya sends him one of his dazzling smiles.   
  
“How about we walk together!” Sakuya offers and Tenma feels something bubbling up from deep within his stomach.   
  
It’s only as he is shaken up by his own laughter, he allows this lighthearted feeling to take root in his stomach. To give the butterflies a place to call home.   
  
“We need to go in different directions,” Tenma says, his hand coming up to cover his mouth where short giggles escape from between his fingers still.  
  
Sakuya blushes furiously, and it only makes Tenma giggle more. He stutters out some words, sentences ending before they could’ve started and Tenma feels like he could float on clouds. The rope around his chest loosens and Tenma walks over to Sakuya, his bag on his shoulder. He ruffles his hair and smiles at him.   
  
“Thanks Sakuya,” Tenma says, enjoying the way Sakuya looks up at him. The smaller boy pouts cutely and Tenma does everything in his power to not burst into giggles again.  
  
“You’re welcome,” Sakuya mumbles, his hand going up to flatten the mess Tenma had made of his hair. “I thought we could at least walk a little bit together?”  
  
Tenma’s heart feels like it might burst out of his chest and he nods without thinking. “That’s fine, let’s do that then.”   
  
Sakuya’s eyes brighten up again and he blesses Tenma with another one of his bright smiles. Tenma allows his heart the two cartwheels it does and then jerks his head towards the general direction of the dorm entrance. Sakuya physically perks up and rushes ahead of him to the door, throwing him a soft smile over his shoulder. Tenma tries very hard not to smile but for once he doesn’t mind when he is met with failure.  
  


***  
  


It’s late at night when the Summer Troupe finishes up their daily practice. Kazunari moans and groans about how sore he feels and Muku shares similar soft voiced complaints. Tenma knows exactly what Kazunari means - they had decided to spruce things up and try their hand at etudes that focused more on physical movements. Misumi had been very much in his element and all the troupe members, Tenma included, had marveled at him in awe.   
  
Izumi claps her hands as Kazunari begins his spiel again, leaning heavily into Misumi who wordlessly supports him with a soft smile gracing his lips.  
  
“All right, all right.” Izumi pinches the bridge of her nose, a smile taking away any semblance of irritation. “I get it alright, today was a rough practice session.”  
  
"It wasn't just rough, it was inhuman." Yuki points a finger at Tenma, "Even the Useless Hack couldn't keep up."  
  
“Hah?!” Tenma lets out a loud groan and points his finger back at Yuki. “I could keep up fine!”  
  
“Y-You do look a bit tired, Tenma-san,” Muku pipes up, his blue eyes filled with worry. “Aren’t you practicing for that movie role too?”  
  
Izumi nods, “Yeah, you’re trying to do two things at the same time, please take care of yourself.”  
  
Tenma nods, his chest feeling warm after hearing everyone’s concerns. It makes him giddy, it makes him feel like he has people who have his back.   
  
Tenma smiles unconsciously, ignoring the way Yuki eyes him up. Ignoring the way Izumi’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes and instead has her gaze fixed on the bags under his eyes. Kazunari and Misumi send each other quick glances before Kazunari skips over to Tenma to throw an arm around his shoulders.  
  
“We should totes go on a field trip together!!” Kazunari exclaims, pulling Tenma closer to him, “You feel all stiff, Tenten, a massage would be the best way to chill out!”  
  
Tenma considers the proposal briefly before wriggling out of Kazunari’s hold. “Hah?” he frowns and shakes his head, “I can’t, this is important. I don’t have the time!”  
  
The Summer Troupe looks at him with sad eyes and Tenma feels something bubble under his skin. His chest feels heavy and he can feel his heart rate pick up. That familiar and haunting tingling sensation settles in his fingers and Tenma feels powerless to stop it.   
  
“Let’s just leave him alone,” Yuki says, shrugging. His amber eyes drill holes into Tenma’s, his eyes gliding to rest on Tenma’s fingers where he’s tapping a steady rhythm against his thigh.   
  
Tenma tries his best to keep his face straight, to hide the fact he’s scared to be left alone. Scared to be in their company for much longer.   
  
Tenma does not want anyone to see him. Tenma does not want anyone to know. Which is a silly thought, he realises when Yuki effortlessly guides the rest of the Summer Troupe out of the practice room, because Yuki already knows. Yuki knows and has decided to keep his mouth shut.   
  
The realisation brings about another wave of anxiety. The understanding that Yuki, in his own clumsy and harsh ways, was looking out for him just adds more weight to his shoulders. It transforms the rope into a metal chain, growing tighter and tighter around his chest. Tearing open his upper arms, slicing through the fabric of his training jersey.   
  
It makes Tenma want to cry. Cry in frustration, cry in fear, cry because it’s unfair.  
  
It is so _unfair_ that he has to struggle to maintain his calm composure. It’s so _unfair_ that he works so hard to keep it all contained and to remain in control but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because he still finds himself gasping for air and hiding in bathroom stalls no matter how much he tries his best.  
  
What else _can_ he do but cry?  
  
Sniffling the tears away, refusing to give in to the urge to sob loudly, Tenma goes to retrieve the bag in the corner. All the way on the bottom, hidden by towels and miscellaneous junk lies The Script he’s been avoiding all day. With shaky fingers, Tenma digs it out and just starts at the cover. The title of the newest movie by his most admired director stares right back at him. Unconsciously, he opens the script, somewhat fondly dragging his fingers over the scribbled notes in the margins of the highlighted parts. The instructions and suggestions. His interpretations of the lines belonging to the lead role.  
  
_His_ role.   
  
In any other universe or on any other day in this universe, Tenma would be full of pride seeing his name on the same movie poster as his favourite director. Even more so when his name would be listed first as the lead role. Yuki would argue that his pride would blow up his ego and head so much, he wouldn’t fit through a single door in the Mankai Company.   
  
Rightfully so, Tenma huffs to himself, adamant to win this imaginary fight against his annoyingly perceptive roommate. It would be no lie to say he is a _good_ actor. He has worked too hard to not pride himself on how far he’s come. The walls he’s climbed and hurdles he’s overcome. The countless hours spent hanging over bathroom sinks and endless cycles of “breathe in, hold 1, 2, 3, 4, and out 1, 2, 3, 4” must’ve been for something.  
  
_Right?  
  
_As if on cue, sensing the seeds of doubt daring to bloom in his chest, the panic takes over and forcefully sends them flying through the whirlwind of thoughts that consume him. It makes him realise once more just how unfair life is.   
  
Tenma drops down on the floor, the script slipping from his hands. He crawls to the wall, pressing his back flat against it. His breathing isn’t out of control yet but Tenma feels unable to relax. So, instead he pulls his legs up, hugging himself and making himself as small as he feels.  
  
It does little to stop the thoughts from going berserk in his mind.   
  
What if it all wasn’t for something?   
  
What if this was just “it”?   
  
That can’t be.  
  
Tenma _refuses_ to let this be it.   
  
What did he struggle so hard for? What did he conquer his fears for? Wasn’t he going to be the greatest actor ever? Wasn’t he going to prove to his dad that he deserves to shine on the stage and silver screen alike? Nailing this role would be the pinnacle of that development. The achievement he’s been working towards for so long.   
  
Tenma’s nails dig themselves into the soft fabric of his pants as his mind clouds over, occupied with the heavy beating of his heart and the rushing of blood in his ears.  
  
His mind is grasping at straws as he tries his best to steady his breathing.   
  
_In 1, 2 --  
  
_There has to be more.   
  
_Not now,_ Tenma thinks annoyed as he tries to sit up against the wall to open up his airways.  
  
_In 1, 2, 3, 4.  
__Out 1 --  
  
_There _has_ to be more.   
  
_I don’t have time for this! I’m going to be the greatest actor ever!  
  
_Tenma bends forward, pulling his legs closer. His heart beats even harder, and it hurts. It hurts like hell and Tenma feels himself gasping for air. He clutches at his chest but a sharp pain makes him collapse forward onto his knees.  
  
_In 1, 2  
__Out 1, 2,  
__In 1, 2  
__Out 1 -  
  
__There has to be more than_ ** _this_** _.  
  
_“Tenma-kun?”  
  
The first coherent thought Tenma forms is a firm, resounding _NO_. He knows that voice and it belongs to the last person who’s allowed to see him like this. Not like this pathetic shell of himself. He can barely, and does not even want to, look at himself like this. He does not want the person that inspired him, the person that pushes him forward to look at him when he’s like this.  
  
“Tenma-kun?”   
  
“Don’t look at me,” Tenma whispers, going against everything in his body that wants to let go and be seen. He manages to look up for a few seconds, his vision blurry with tears that he does not allow to fall and he meets the softest rose-coloured eyes he loves so much. Something inside him snaps; the understanding he is met with burns. There is no pity in Sakuya’s eyes, there is something that looks like respect and Tenma does not know how to respond.  
  
Sakuya squats down next to him, repeating his name for a third time, equally as soft and gentle as the first time he called out to him. He rests his hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb and Tenma hates how his body wants to lean into his touch. How the tension in his shoulders disappears.  
  
“Don’t look at me!” Tenma swats away Sakuya’s hand, the sound echoing off the walls in the training room. As soon as Tenma feels the impact of his hand hitting Sakuya’s, his breath catches in his throat and his body is wracked with sobs.  
  
“Tenma-kun, it’s okay! I’m fine, I’m fine!” Sakuya is not deterred and rubs his hand gently over Tenma’s shoulders as the panicked boy cries for the first time in weeks. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”  
  
Except it’s not okay.   
  
Tenma’s breathing staggers, the heavy sobbing messing with his lungs even more. There’s nowhere he can run, he won’t be able to stand on his feet like this.   
  
Sakuya pulls on his shoulders not unkindly but rougher than Tenma expected. He stumbles backwards and Sakuya shuffles himself so he sits right in front of him. Sakuya pushes him to sit up straight, the sudden confident movements surprising Tenma so much he lets himself be moved around like a doll. He gapes at Sakuya who unfurls his fingers, tugs them away from his shirt and holds them tightly. Sakuya squeezes hard, bringing a familiar sensation back to Tenma’s hands and he cannot help but just stare at Sakuya wordlessly.  
  
Where did he learn this, Tenma wonders, the thought quick and fleeting. He tries to keep his focus on what’s happening, the way Sakuya lets go of his hands, and then gives them a quick slap. Sakuya does this again until Tenma can see his skin turning red and he shakes his head at Sakuya.   
  
No words are needed because Sakuya effortlessly picks up what Tenma needs.   
  
“I need you to follow me.” Sakuya is clear and concise in his instructions as he guides Tenma through his breathing exercises.   
  
“In 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4.”  
  
Tenma follows along obediently, the dark side of his mind not powerful enough to send him back into a panic. He maintains eye contact with Sakuya who follows his breathing and shifts his attention to the way his chest heaves more slowly and slowly.   
  
“Now breathe through your stomach,” Sakuya instructs and Tenma listens. There is nothing else he can do, he’s always been drawn to Sakuya. Drawn to his energy and his aura. Sakuya demanded to be listened to, whether he was on a stage or on the floor of a training room. Tenma could never refuse him, not when his brows are furrowed just slightly and his doe eyes are clouded over with commitment and determination.  
  
Once Tenma feels his head clear up and back in control of his body and breathing, Sakuya sends him a smile. It’s one filled with pride and it brings Tenma to tears.   
  
Because how does he do it? How does he look at him with so much pride and care and love after seeing him be so pathetic? How does he not ask questions? How does he seem so calm?   
  
Tenma opens his mouth to ask these questions but all that leaves his lips is the start of a sob and suddenly his vision blurs but the tears have a chance to properly fall, he’s pulled into a tight hug. His arms hang limply beside his body, unsure what to do with himself. Sakuya squeezes him and mumbles something into his shoulder, Tenma fails to catch. Instead, Tenma slowly wraps himself around Sakuya, his hands shaking as his fingers curl into the soft fabric of Sakuya’s shirt.  
  
Sakuya whispers soft encouragement into his ear, telling Tenma it will all be okay, that he's fine, that it’s okay to cry, to let it all out. Tenma can’t think clearly but he knows Sakuya’s voice is a soothing force here. Sakuya’s hand does not leave his back, rubbing circles and rubbing all the tension out of him.   
  
When Tenma’s tears have had enough of the outside world and stop streaming down his cheeks, they leave a headache in their wake. Tenma eases himself out of Sakuya’s hold, missing the warmth and sense of safety almost immediately. He eyes Sakuya who has moved his hand from Tenma’s back to his shoulder. Sakuya maintains eye contact, respect and worry shimmering in his eyes but his mouth is drawn into the smile Tenma loves.   
  
Tenma heaves a deep sigh and lifts his hand up to ruffle Sakuya’s hair. The gesture startles Sakuya but he soon giggles under the familiarity of it. “Thank you,” Tenma whispers and Sakuya shakes his head in response.  
  
“I did nothing you should thank me for.” Sakuya shrugs as he scoots to sit next to Tenma instead of right in front of him.   
  
Tenma wipes at his eyes, the training room coming back into focus. The simple floors, the plain walls; it all feels calming and safe to him. He can see the script he’s been fighting from the corner of his eyes, out of reach. Sakuya seems to have followed his line of sight because he shuffles around and blocks the script from his view.   
  
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Sakuya asks, as he pulls his legs up and rests his chin on his knees.   
  
Tenma thinks this through, wonders briefly what he wants to say. How lame will he allow himself to be in front of Sakuya?   
  
“How did you find me here?” Tenma asks instead, startling Sakuya who blushes furiously at the question. How odd, Tenma thinks, that a simple question like that flusters him so.  
  
“Ah, I was just taking a stroll and I ended up here!” Sakuya laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.   
  
Tenma nods. “You’re a real acting junkie, taking strolls down the training rooms.”  
  
Sakuya agrees, the awkward giggle accompanying him as he talks. It fills Tenma’s stomach with butterflies he doesn’t remember swallowing.  
  
“Do you want to talk about what happened here?” Sakuya carefully breaches the subject, his voice wavering as he gets closer to the end of his question. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to! But maybe talking will get you closer to the answer you’re looking for! And I wouldn’t mind listening to you!”  
  
Tenma feels his lips curl up into a smile without his permission and he ruffles Sakuya’s hair almost on instinct. Sakuya closes his eyes as Tenma’s fingers glide through the front half of his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face.   
  
“I’m practicing for that big lead role.” Tenma starts, avoiding the way Sakuya looks up at him. “I want to make it a success, I want to be the greatest actor ever and this role is everything I could ever wish for. A lead role! For a movie by my favourite director!”  
  
Tenma sighs as he flattens out Sakuya’s hair, trying to fix the mess he'd made of it. “It’s just daunting because I really want to do it justice. It’s also super good promo for the Company and it might help us pull in more visitors, you know. That would be great in general but I also carry our reputation, which I don’t want to ruin, like it’s not just my reputation it’s _our_ reputation, you know? I don’t want to waste anyone’s time, you know?”  
  
Sakuya nods slowly, pulling a leg up to rest his face against his chin. “Are you having fun?”  
  
Tenma’s eyes widen at Sakuya’s simple question, _fun?  
  
_Tenma mules the question over. Twists and turns it in his mind, considering the many layers and angles to such a simple, Sakuya-esque question. His answer leaves his lips slowly, “I’ve always thought of acting as being fun first. Sure, it’s stressful being the lead role and carrying a lot of the responsibility for making productions a good one. I mean, I want to convey how amazing acting is to our audience and I want them to enjoy the show we’re going to put up and I want to--”  
  
“Tenma-kun, are you having fun considering all that?” Sakuya looks up at Tenma from under his lashes. “Is acting like that fun? Does worrying about everything leave room to have fun?”  
  
The question unnerves Tenma, why is it so hard to imagine the last time he had fun when acting? Why can he not come up with a structured answer? Why does his mind slip into all the different sideroads leading up disappointment and stress instead of taking the main road to fun and happiness?  
  
“I don’t know,” Tenma whispers, the realisation hitting him like a ton of bricks. The realisation that the thing that brought him most joy in life suddenly was the source of all his troubles now.   
  
Sakuya seems to understand as he nods his head. Tenma had expected him to, it was Sakuya after all.   
  
“I think we should try and figure out a way for you to have fun again.” Sakuya’s voice is firm, his eyes shining with determination. “You’re an amazing actor Tenma-kun, you are an amazing person! You shine brightly on stage, you demand attention, and you always look like you’re having fun.”  
  
Tenma watches as Sakuya launches a song of praises, giving him every compliment under the sun. How does he do it, Tenma wonders. How does Sakuya tell him the exact things he wants to hear? The things he _needs_ to hear?  
  
“I think you shine brightest when you are having fun, Tenma-kun.” Sakuya smiles widely, “I want to see you shine again. I love it when you act and I love it when you look happy most.”  
  
Tenma feels a whole new sensation take over his body as the blood rushes to his cheeks. Sakuya seems unaware of the implication of his words, continuing his monologue on the Different Reasons Sumeragi Tenma is Amazing.   
  
It fills Tenma’s heart with both hope and a four letter word, as he watches Sakuya talk. The script lays forgotten off to the side, his mind on Sakuya and his worries evaporating like rain in the sun.  
  
“Hey, Sakuya.” Tenma doesn’t know what comes over him, doesn’t know what kind of energy is surging through his body. He just knows he needs to ride it out now or he’ll back out forever.   
  
Tenma’s hand threads into Sakuya’s hair, watching how Sakuya falls quiet instantly. Tenma takes a deep breath, and pulls him closer and cuts off Sakuya’s “Tenma-kun?” effortlessly by pressing their lips together. He presses his eyes closed, scared for whatever he may read on Sakuya’s face. The worries disappear when Sakuya brings up a hand to cup his face and leans into his kiss instead.   
  
Tenma feels his heart jump once more. Hope sits heavy in his chest, but this time it’s pressure he doesn’t mind. It tears the rope he’s been lugging around apart and as Tenma breaks away from Sakuya, he finally remembers how to breathe again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is another fic very close to my heart and I really poured a lot of myself into this one, so I hope the messages I wanted to convey came across well. If anyone can relate to Tenma, please stay strong and please hold on hope. I hope you find the thing that brings you joy and allows you to break your own ropes and chains and breathe freely again.
> 
> I hope 2021 has started off right for you all and that it's been kind to you. Take care of yourselves everyone.
> 
> As always, thank you very much for reading. Have a lovely morning, day, evening, or night wherever you are ♥


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